One Night
by happychaos
Summary: One night can change a lot. Ten or so years later, Will and Elizabeth are happily married. Their first child, a boy called Billy, looks mysteriously like Jack and dreams of being a pirate. What happens when real pirates show up, with Jack on their tails?
1. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!

One Night  
  
by happy~chaos  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ avast! Thanks for getting this far! Opening the story, I mean. You must be a little interested, right? Why stop there! Why not read the story! And then leave a review! Yay! This story is a little different than most of the stories in the section. It isn't slash, a Mary Sue, or terribly out of character (I'm trying my best)! It's my attempt at an adventure story, but since I'm a romantic there will be tons of romance. Jack/Anamaria and Will/Elizabeth, with a bit of a twist. A twist in the shape of a little boy, Billy, named William for his father and called Billy for a pirate. Billy is Will's and Elizabeth's son. Except, he looks exactly like Jack. Odd, eh? Curiouser and curiouser. ~.^ disclaimer: obviously not mine. Jack's heart belongs to me, he just doesn't know it yet. ~thanks to Beau Porteur De Diamant for being a slinkster cool beta!~ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
She had tried her hardest to forget; indeed she had, until little Billy had started to resemble Jack so strongly she was reminded.  
  
Elizabeth really couldn't be blamed for it. The rum had been in her, and Jack had been so tender (and, she can hardly admit to herself, so handsome), and his eyes had been just like Will's, the gentlest, softest brown. And, she had thought at the time, that they were stuck on that beastly island together forever. Alone. What point was there in denying her lust? There were no rules out there. One was free.  
  
But freedom has a price, and Elizabeth had paid hers when she woke in the arms of a man she not wanted, but had had. She had wanted him at the time, yes, but not -really-. He couldn't replace her Will. She always had though of Mr. Turner as her Will. It was a private delight, one that she had betrayed now.  
  
When she had woken after that alcohol filled night she quickly shoved herself away from his accursedly warm embrace. Elizabeth straightened and tied up her clothes and fell back asleep, still using his arm as a pillow, but in a much more chaste position.  
  
When she woke again, scant hours later, only a few visions remained of their encounter and she guiltily dismissed them as a dream. She could convince herself of that, easily enough. Jack -was- strangely attractive, in a dangerous, foolish, maniacal sort of way. And it wasn't a sin for a girl to notice that!  
  
But it was also strangely fixed in her mind that that vile, evil, despicable drink must be gotten rid of at once, or it would have dire consequences. So she burned it, all of it, and it made the largest fire she had ever seen, sure to rescue them from certain death. So it was lucky, really. Savvy?  
  
If Jack had any memories, he kept them to himself. It was either that or the rum, which he had consumed in large enough quantities to black out the most embittered drunk.  
  
So Elizabeth's days had passed, in happy, happy contentment with her Will. They had been married three weeks after the departure of Captain Sparrow. Their days were joyful and their nights.perfect. She couldn't have asked for more.  
  
Except the baby came almost a month early, but instead of being small or sickly, he was has hale and healthy as one could wish for. And that was when she started remembering.  
  
Billy was ten, now, and his brother John was six, and Emily was nearly three. John was the spitting image of his father, and Emily, when she was still enough to look at, seemed to be developing her mother's nose.  
  
But Billy, named William for his Father and called Billy for a pirate, was looking more and more like a certain captain every day.  
  
If Will noticed (as he surely must have!) he neither commented or treated Billy any different. In fact, at the moment Billy was terrorizing his brother with a blunt wooden sword manufactured by Will and a pirate's cap on his head.  
  
"Avast, maties!" he cried, waving the sword about wildly. "Shiver me timbers! I'll make ye walk the plank and swim with the fishes in Davy Jone's locker, I will! Aye!" and with that speech, he throttled John, taking him captive and, with an eerily quick skill, roped his little sibling to the legs of the table and cried,  
  
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"  
  
Elizabeth slammed down her needlework, in a rare show of temper. "William Turner! You stop that this instant! Untie your brother and give me that sword, now!" Surprised at his mother's fury (usually she laughed and gently rebuked him when he played at pirates, as long as he didn't really hurt John) he handed over his sword immediately. He then untied the uninjured John, who swiftly kicked his elder brother.  
  
Elizabeth quickly shuffled the sword into the fire, and muted an ugly cry of protest from Billy with a look colder than ice.  
  
"We'll have none of that, now," she said, although a blush rose on her cheeks. It was a mean thing for her to do, and she regretted it now. Billy adored playing at pirates, and if anyone was to blame, it was her. She was the one who read him stories of Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl every night, before bed and after the Bible. It was her who taught him how to swim before he could walk and it was her who had her father walk him among the sailors and learn the ways of the sea, before he had started his letters.  
  
If he was looking more like Jack- excuse us, Captain Sparrow, everyday, it was only her imagination. He did a convincing act as his hero, and no doubt, was trying to capture the odd little mannerisms of his adoration. The strangely feminine twist of the fingers. The use of eloquent speech, far surpassing the vocabulary of the other children. The twisted look of insane determination lined with sheer brilliance. His round, soft brown eyes, the feature which she was sure kept people from wondering, because they were so like Will's. The coarse black hair. His nose. His lips.  
  
There were all products of her imagination, and his incredible acting skills. She would simply have to start reading him stories starring characters of a more noble profession. That was all there was to it.  
  
But when she looked up to apoligize, and promise his first real sword for his next birthday, he was gone.  
  
And then a sound she had always half longed for, and she had half hoped she would never hear again. Cannons.  
  
And even farther in the distance, so it was a wonder she could even hear it, a song she knew well.  
  
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot! Drink up me hearties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot! Drink up me hearties. yo ho! 


	2. We pillage, we plunder we rifle and loot

One Night  
  
Jack Sparrow, Captain of the fated Black Peal, was something he never in seven hells though he would be.  
  
Jack was bored of life.  
  
Raping had never been his style, even Jack considered himself gentlemanly enough to avoid that particular pirating gig. The ladies came easily enough to him, anyway, handsome dog that he was. Pillaging was losing its sport. He had enough gold stored away to last him and his crew several life times of high luxury. Plundering- that still held some amusement for him, explosions were fun for boys of any age. Shattering glass was a sound he cherished.  
  
Battles, Jack still loved. He adored the look on those pompous prick's faces when they were done in by him, Captain Jack Sparrow. But he really did not have the same stomach for murder, anymore. Shooting a man down in battle was one thing- killing him off to make sure he doesn't cause trouble was another. It was quite tiresome, really.  
  
But it was getting so that even the battles weren't so fun. He was, quite simply and modestly, getting too good. There were no surprises anymore. All the Commodores and Captains and Princes and Kings all tried the same maneuvers- every time. How droll.  
  
Jack woke with a start, leaning against the steering wheel of his ship, his hat pulled low over his eyes and an arm around the lovely but somewhat unconquerable Anamaria. He had been dozing. Bad Jack. He tapped himself on the nose. What a naughty boy. Perhaps Anamaria would agree to spanking him later. He nearly giggled at the thought.  
  
What he needed was some excitement, some adventure. It was then he noticed they were rather close to the island where he had met Will and Elizabeth, where his last truly great adventure had ended and begun. Perhaps it was there something great would occur. And, at least he could stop by and visit his fondly remembered friends. Fate, it seemed, had wanted him to take a look. But could he really risk it? He had known both of them for maybe five days, they were really mere acquaintances. But it was then he noticed the bright orange sails that marked the boats of Captain Gunther.  
  
Gunther was a pirate disliked by pirates for being a swindling, unfair, cheating bastard. Heading straight for Will's island. Something in Jack's blackened heart lurched. Was it because, unbeknownst to his conscious mind, his very own flesh and blood, his son was in mortal peril? Or was it merely the knowledge the good man Will, who has risked his own life for Jack's, and the lovely lady Elizabeth, who's bravery had amused and astounded him, were in danger? Whatever the reason, he did not ignore the feeling in his gut. He couldn't.  
  
"The wind's changing, you bloody curs! Methinks we'll make a quick stop over there." He threw an arm out, indicating Will's island and Gunther's ship. The crew, collectively, grinned. Perhaps there would be a real fight this time. The wind was changing, indeed. 


	3. Drink up me hearties, yo ho

One Night  
  
Elizabeth cursed herself as she gathered Emily to her breast and grabbed John by the hand. That was just like her, to scold and yell at the boy right when bloody pirates were attacking. Now he was gone, and she had no idea where, and her only thought was not to left her or the children be found in the governor's house, where they would surely be taken ransom. She wanted to find Will. That was her first plan.  
  
Will was still a young man, not quite yet thirty. Still fair and strong, with a face softened by the adoration of his family, devotion for his wife. He couldn't have been happier. He told the stories of his and Elizabeth's adventure to them at least twice a week (the scoundrels begged it out of him!) and he had fond memories of pirates, nowadays, rather than the hateful visions he used to have.  
  
But that didn't stop him from defending his home and family, when they came. He had a pile of three bodies around him already, and he had barely left the black smith shop. He needed to get to Elizabeth, and the children, and if he had to hack his way through, so be it.  
  
Luckily, this wasn't the case. Elizabeth had crept into the shop through the back door, away from the turmoil and, having seen her husband outside, opened the front door, grabbed his collar, and dragged him in. He grasped her tightly, she was white, and he had blood on his face. Oh, he was glad to see her all right. He bent and embraced the children. Only two sets of arms were clinging to him. Where was-  
  
"Elizabeth," he whispered. "Where's Billy?" She bit back her trembling lip. It was all her fault.  
  
"I don't know," she whispered. "I scolded him, and he left. That was before.but now I don't know where he is."  
  
Will swore under his breath. "Damn him for a fool! The lad's probably out trying to fight- you know how he is."  
  
Will turned to go, but her slim hand on his shoulder stopped him.  
  
"I'm going with you!" she said, in a strong voice, despite the fear underlaying it. Fear for her son.  
  
"No, you're not. Elizabeth, think of the children! They need someone, if I don't." He didn't voice the rest, but they all knew.  
  
Her reserve quavered for a moment. But then she thought of Billy, her first born, her little pirate. "Billy needs us, now, Will, more than these two. If anything were to happen, they would go with my father, and you should know more than anyone he's a good man. Everything will work out." And with that, she reached up and grabbed a sword, any sword, and Will did not argue anymore.  
  
She turned and kissed her beloved children, and Will swung them up high into the attic of the shop. He covered them with a blanket and hay, and told them not to make any noise.  
  
Will looked grim. Elizabeth faltered. Billy needed her, but she could never just leave these two unprotected. That was madness. Here she thought of an idea.  
  
The governor was always locked up in the Commodore's office during sieges, it was the way things went. He simply has to be protected, to continue to lead the people after the battle. She was sure she could get the children in there, it wasn't far. And they would be ever so much safer with their grandfather. She whispered this to Will, who nodded and hooked John under his arm. John began to protest this unfair treatment and was silenced with a light cuff from his father.  
  
Elizabeth cradled Emily to her breast. They left through the back door.  
  
Will went first, to the delight of John. He, as he had promised, hacked and slashed his way through the crowd. The air was full of stinging smoke and the cries of injured people. Elizabeth seethed. How dare they!! How dare they! She stuck her sword into more than one pirate's belly on the way.  
  
Just as she was nearly certain all was lost, that they would never get through all this mayhem and blood and death, they were there. They wasted no time on good byes. Will all but threw John into the office, and Elizabeth herded Emily into her grandfather's surprised arms. She kissed her children swiftly, whispered "I love you. Be good." And left, Will's arm pulling her back along through the crowd.  
  
"We don't have anything to barter with! What good would parley do?" she said through gritted teeth, her back against her husbands, her sword flashing nearly as dangerously as his. She had been taught by her husband, and she had shown an aptitude for sword fighting. Now at last her skills proved useful. She drove her rapier hard through the shoulder of one hook handed pirate, and then slashed downward into his stomach and twisted hard. He screamed, and blood splattered her cheek. He fell. More came. It was hopeless. But she couldn't give up. Not when her child was out there, somewhere. Probably fighting.  
  
Her Will felt the same, she knew. Otherwise he would have never let her come. He would have tied her into a chair if the need arose, rather than risk her. But a mother's love is perhaps the strongest thing on Earth, and she merely would have hurt herself trying to escape the well-meant bonds. So he didn't argue and let her fight.  
  
He just hoped they could find Billy before it was too late. 


	4. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a ho...

One Night  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ hey, guys! Thanks for getting this far! I just wanted to say: Elizabeth was young, scared, and drunk. We're all only human, and she just gave into temptation once. And what kind of man would Will be if he stopped loving Billy or Elizabeth, because of a mistake she made a whole ten years ago? So if you're looking for that kind of poetic justice, don't read anymore, because I'm not going to have Will find comfort in the arms of another woman. He loves the one has, even though (and maybe because) she is human and has made mistakes. The whole story is about forgiving, right? Where would Jack be if Will had never forgiven him for being a pirate, eh? We can be good and make mistakes too. Pirates can be good men. Let Elizabeth be a good lady. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
Jack was grinning. They were practically there. He loaded the boats, set himself out. He was practically twitching with the promise of a good time. When they got on shore, he breathed in deeply, remembering. Then he and his good men set forth, cutting pirate throats as they went, but keeping any gold they found on the dogs. No sense in returning that. And stealing from thieves wasn't really stealing, was it? Not that they had any real scruples about that.  
  
Jack was walking rather quickly through the fray, picking his way carefully to avoid fights. He really only wanted the captain, there was only real pride in bringing down Gunther himself. That and he did want to have a word with Will, who was sure to be out fighting, if he was still able. It had been ten years, after all.  
  
But what he found was much more startling.  
  
It was a boy, at first glance, only a boy, nothing special. But he had a fierceness in his eyes and a keen intelligence on his face that was overriding even the paleness of his terror. He was waving a huge sword in the face of the Captain Gunther himself, and the Captain was smiling. Not a good sign. Jack was about to push the boy aside and step into the fight, when he saw something that nearly made his blood run cold.  
  
The boy looked exactly like him. He had no beard, of course, he was just a boy, but his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his lips, his chin, the particular gleam of maniacal brilliance in his identical eyes.  
  
"What devilery is this!?" he cried hoarsely, and both the Captain and the boy turned to look at him. The boy's face positively lit up and for a moment he completely forgot his fear.  
  
"You're Jack Sparrow!" he cried, clapping his hands in delight and nearly poking his eye out with the sword.  
  
"Eh? Cap'n Jack Sparrow?" said Gunther, who lost the smug grin on his face immediately. Jack grinned again, and Gunther trembled. Most men did, upon seeing that particular look on the Captain of the Black Pearl's face. It was then Jack knew this wouldn't be a fight to be proud of, and that Gunther was a yellow bellied coward who couldn't walk the talk, so to speak. Jack sighed and put away his sword. He nodded towards one of his men and they flipped Gunther over the stone wall and into the sea. Neat and efficient.  
  
Jack then approached the boy and slung a friendly arm over his trembling shoulder. "Now, boy." but he got no further. A huge, burly Canadian had quite suddenly restled the boy away, much to Jack's surprise.  
  
"Hey! Wot-" but he got no further. His own men had given chase to the burly pirate with the boy and in the scrabble Jack was knocked down. He didn't get up for some time.  
  
When he finally did, it was to the sounds of quiet, restrained sobbing. He got up slowly, gingerly. He checked himself. No broken bones. A splitting headache-but he woke up with one of those often enough to hardly notice. Nothing else seemed wrong. Except his hat was missing and that blasted cur wouldn't stop crying.  
  
"Hey- where's me hat?"  
  
Elizabeth sat up abruptly, her eyes red, a soaked hanky hovering near her face. "Oh, Jack, you're awake," she whispered, her voice cracking. Jack put his head in his hands.  
  
"Elizabeth, love, how're ye? It's been a while, eh, lass?" She nodded, and something bitter came into her face. But then she smiled and picked up a tray, with a water jug and a slab of meat balanced somewhat precariously on it. Jack practically attacked it.  
  
"What's this, now. No rum?" He asked, only half joking. But instead of smiling, Elizabeth scowled.  
  
"There is never rum in this house, Mr. Sparrow. I suggest you get used to it." With that she left, and slammed the door.  
  
"It's Captain!" he called out after her. There was no reply, or indeed, sign that she had heard him.  
  
"Captain Sparrow," he muttered to himself. 


	5. Drink up me hearties, yo ho

One Night  
  
Will burst into the room through the other door a second after Elizabeth had left. "Where's Elizabeth!?" he cried, flinging off his hat and sword. Jack spluttered on his water.  
  
"Will! It's damn good to see you, boy! How're you getting' along, then? Well, I take it. This is a fine house, a damn fine house."  
  
Will ignored his ramblings and took the pirate by the shoulders.  
  
"Where's Elizabeth? Have you seen her?"  
  
"That's no way to greet an old friend, is it, Bill?"  
  
The name had slipped out- Will looked even more like Bootstrap now that he was older. Eerily like him, in fact. But the name had an effect on Will that Jack had never expected. He let go of Jack's shoulders and slid against the wall, his head into his arms. Jack swore under his breath and thumped down beside him.  
  
"Sorry, Will. You look like 'im, that's all. I meant nothing by it."  
  
"That's not it, Jack" he said, his voice muffled by his knees. "My son. His name is Billy. And- he's gone. We can't find him. I've been looking all night- I can't find him." Will shook with rage. Jack stared for a moment, and then fished for a flask in his sleeves. Doing what he usually did in these situations, he took a good long swig.  
  
"Elizabeth!" Jack called, his voice cracking. "ELIZABETH!"  
  
She swung in the room, her eyes red, her face tearstained, her hips widened from giving birth to three children, but Jack saw her and remembered how lovely she was, how he had not been surprised Will would risk death for her. He remembered his arm around her shoulders, and singing and a fire. He almost remembered-  
  
But she was in a right temper and immediately dispelled any magical moments they may have shared with her voice of ice.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Sparrow?" But then she saw her dear beloved Will collapsed against the wall and her heart went to him. She crouched beside him and took his hands and saw in his eyes that Billy was not yet found.  
  
"oh, Will" she breathed, her voice catching. "We'll find him. I'm sure we'll find him. It's my turn to look, now, and you can stay here with Jack and the children-" Here she embraced him, because he looked so much like a lost little boy, and it reminded her of Billy, but also because he was her husband and she loved him.  
  
Jack cleared his throat after he thought this had been going on long enough. "Excuse me, but what does this Billy boy look like? Mebbe some of my crew has seen him. And if not, they'll soon wish they had. I'll send them out to look now, I will. And they won't stop 'till he's found."  
  
Will smiled half heartedly, but looked away from the pirate's gaze. He whispered something that Jack couldn't hear, but made Elizabeth go pale.  
  
"Eh? What's that?"  
  
"You. He looks like you." Jack stared for a moment in disbelief. "You mean that lad with the sword and Gunther! He was a good boy, he was. My crew has him, methinks."  
  
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, a reaction that some may have found surprising, considering she had just been told her son was probably holed up on a pirate ship. Will leapt to his feet. "What are we waiting for!?!"  
  
Soon our heroes were following Jack's unsteady pace down to the docks. There his crew was, uncharacteristically quiet. Usually they would have a little party after a night's revels.  
  
Jack yelled something at them, too slurred for Elizabeth and Will to understand (the children were safe with Elizabeth's father in the house they all shared) but the pirates apparently got the gist, for they were ushered on. Anamaria pulled Jack overboard and he slung an affectionate arm around her waist. She was rather rough when hauling Elizabeth over.  
  
"Stuck with me, this one 'as" he said, smiling rather sloppily at Anamaria. She raised an eyebrow. "Only because I find you so charming." Jack laughed a bit too heartily. Will cleared his throat.  
  
"Ah, yes, Will, keep your pants on. For all our sakes." Jack turned, to his laughing pirates. "Where is that boy.the one who looks like me!" One of them handed him a dirty note, written in a child's uneven handwriting on what appeared to have once been a sock. It read:  
  
cAPtyN jACK sPARo: we HAVe UR sOn. IF U evEr waNt To sEA hiM aGAiN, GivEs us THE coMPaSS thAT lEADS tO ThE ILaND oF TReasURES aND oNe MilION BaRS oF PuRe GoLD. WE nO yOu HaVE iT. MEAT us AT mIDNiT ON TEELGor iN tO DAs. Or Els.  
  
There was a thick silence over everyone, filled with tension and fear and promise of a scheme by their Captain and guiding light, Jack Sparrow. Only he could speak, now, and bring them hope and promise that this gross deed would not go unpunished. Only Jack could break the horrible silence. Only Jack.  
  
"I have a son?" Jack asked stupidly. 


	6. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!

One Night  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ Woot! Whatever was causing the evil symbols is gone! Yay! *does happy dance*Thanks soooo much for all the reviews, I do a happy dance each time I get one! I also really don't like this title much, so if you can think of a better one, I will give you a prize! And thanks to Beau Porteur De Diamant, because she is being the most slinkster cool beta ever! XD On with the show, eh? *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
Will resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. Elizabeth tried not to show how the drunken question had stabbed her deeply in a swift, secret place and spoke;  
  
"They mean Billy, obviously. He bears an uncanny resemblance to you, Jack-" Anamaria growled at Elizabeth, actually bared her teeth and growled at the familiar tone she was using. Elizabeth was only taken aback for a moment- this was her child they were talking about. Jack grinned apoligetically and gently smacked Anamaria on the behind.  
  
"We'll have none of that, darling" She clawed his arm with her nails, but Jack made no sign of noticing. Elizabeth cleared her throat.  
  
"He bears an uncanny resemblance to you, Ja- Captain Sparrow, we've been over this. It's why you remembered him, if your addled brain can recall" Jack rubbed his free hand (the one not being bloodied by a woman) over his beard.  
  
"Hmm. Wonder why that is." Elizabeth blushed, redder than anything.  
  
"H-he idolizes you," Elizabeth stammered. "He wants to be you. I think he tries, you know. To look like you." Jack grinned his infuriating, cheeky grin.  
  
"Lass, that's more than tryin' going on, on his face. You sure nothin' went on, on that island? I seem to remember." He shut his eyes and appeared to be concentrating hard, his brow folded. Elizabeth's heart pounded. Anamaria continued to bloody his arm (it was nearly in rivets now, the blood, honestly) while punching him in the stomach. To do this she had to twist around in the grip he had on her waist. Her face was in front of his. He opened his eyes when he felt her there, and much to Elizabeth's relief and Anamaria's hidden pleasure, he kissed her, long and hard.  
  
"Don't worry, love, I don't remember anything because there's nothing to remember." Anamaria was now shrieking a volley of curses.  
  
Elizabeth sighed. Perhaps he was right. It was completely possible, wasn't it, that Billy was her and Will's son? Perhaps Will was some third cousin of Jack's (you know how pirates are with woman! They sow their seed everywhere. It's very possible, isn't it?) and their baby happened to have his features. It was possible. More than possible. Likely. Especially because she had no real memory of ever sleeping with Jack. And if she ever got any, she would be sure to hide it now. At least in front of Anamaria.  
  
"How're we going to get Billy back?" asked Will, his hand suddenly reassuring and strong on her shoulder. She put her hand on his, feeling his ring under her fingers. This is what matters, she told herself. Him and Billy and John and Elizabeth. Not phantom dreams ten years old. Getting Billy back. Now.  
  
Jack shrugged and continued to trace patterns down Anamaria's shivering back with his callused fingers. He wasn't really concentrating on them at the moment, truth be told. It was her smooth, soft, chocolate skin and her little shudders of pleasure that he was concentrating on. Elizabeth knew this and was infuriated. She stepped forward and all but tore him away from Anamaria. She smacked him, once but soundly. Jack rolled his eyes and rubbed at his jaw. He had been about to make some snide comment when she cut him off.  
  
"YOU TELL ME RIGHT NOW, JACK SPARROW HOW WE ARE GOING TO GET OUR SON BACK OR ELSE SO I WILL MAKE SURE YOU CAN NEVER, EVER MAKE ANOTHER ONE AGAIN."  
  
Elizabeth seemed to loom over him, huge and terrifying. Jack pulled his hat over his eyes and sighed.  
  
"So 'e is mine, then"  
  
Elizabeth deflated. Will took her hand. "What's this, Elizabeth?" She looked away. Will dropped her hand as if it suddenly had become to hot for him to touch.  
  
"Will.I don't know," she said, truthfully. Will sat down, hard, on the deck. She couldn't look at him. Jack, for once being tactful, said perhaps this conversation would better be continued in his private chambers. And if Anamaria wasn't present.  
  
Will did not touch her once the way down into the cabin. Elizabeth was reeling in her mind. First she had lost her son. Now she was losing her love, her only, her pirate, her rock, her hero, her husband, her Will.  
  
Jack cleared off some maps and things from the chairs. "Here, here, sit down," he said, his voice oddly gentle. He sat behind his desk, boots propped up on it. "Well," he began, trying to ignore the fact that both these people looked like they were going dead on the inside. "What's the story?"  
  
Will glanced at Elizabeth. "I don't know. But apparently Billy isn't my son. And I'd like to know how that happened." Elizabeth turned very red, and stared hard at Will's feet.  
  
"I don't know, either, Will. Jack and I both drank a lot, that night, more than I've ever had in my life. Or ever will again." She shuddered, remembering a man's touch, a man who wasn't Will. And then she cried a little, tiny bit, thinking how now she would never have her (dare she call him hers any longer, even in the privacy of her own mind?) Will again.  
  
Will, for his part, longed to touch her, longed to take her into his arms and comfort her but he couldn't. He was frozen in pain, wondering if his life had been a lie. If Billy was not his son. If Elizabeth's heart really belonged to another man. But even if both were true.Billy was still his son. He had raised the boy. And Elizabeth.even if her heart lay with another, his was hers. Forever.  
  
Will stood slowly. "Elizabeth. You are still my wife. Billy is still my son. I love both of you. No matter what." She cried and reached her arms out to him, but he did not take them. "I love you. But I need time. If this tale is true." And for the first time he turned away.  
  
Even Jack averted his eyes from this sad scene. But Elizabeth did not cry. She understood. She cleared her throat and began.  
  
"Jack and I were marooned on this island with no chance of rescue- so we thought. So we drank. I was scared, Will, I was scared and Jack was there and he was strong." She tried to explain about his eyes, how they had been so much like Will's that her drunken mind really had no problem rationalizing everything. She explained how she hadn't remembered, until Billy had started looking so much like Jack, and even then her memories had been nothing more than snatches of dreamscapes. Jack nodded in agreement with her at some points, but remained uncharacteristically silent. He sensed, perhaps, that as much as this concerned him, it was really these two the drama was about. After all, he had just found out he had one more son then expected, but Will had just found out he had one less. Jack figured Will was in a worse position.  
  
After hearing the story, Will stood. He said, "Jack, you had better think of something."  
  
Jack nodded, raised his eyebrows in conjunction with his cheeky smile, spread his arms wide and said, "I will, man. I'm Jack Sparrow!"  
  
Will nodded, but then directed all attention at Elizabeth. She was staring into space, hair falling haphazardly into her empty eyes. Her son was gone. Her husband removed from her plane. She looked damaged. Jack looked away.  
  
Will touched her hair, briefly. She looked up at him with eyes heavy with love and pain and remorse and guilt and relief. He smiled, slightly. She smiled a little back. "Good night," he whispered, but then was gone. Elizabeth smoothed the lap of her grown and whispered "Good night, my Will" 


	7. We extort, we pilfer we filch and sack

One Night  
  
"Well," Jack said awkwardly into the silence. "I wouldn't advise sleeping in the women's quarters.only Anamaria is ever there and you two seem to have ahh..not exactly hit it off upon your reacquaintance."  
  
Elizabeth stood. "I can go home to sleep. You're docked in my town, remember?"  
  
Jack nodded sheepishly. "Oh yes, I forgot. In that case, I had better go share Anamaria's sleeping quarters. So she won't be lonely without the company she was expecting." Jack tipped his hat at Elizabeth and stood.  
  
"But first I'll escort you upstanding young woman off my ship" Elizabeth smiled.  
  
"Not so young, anymore, Jack." He offered his arm. She didn't take it. Jack didn't press the point.  
  
As she was getting off the ship, she turned to him. "We will get him back, won't we, Jack?" He appeared startled. A single tear fell from her eye, tracing it's way down her still smooth cheek. On instinct Jack reached up and swept it away.  
  
Will saw this from his sleeping place onboard, and cringed. He imagined them together- her long legs entwined with his, his hands grasping her breasts, his lips kissing her warm, alabaster neck, and he cried silently to himself. Oh, Elizabeth, Elizabeth. How could you? I love you. Why wasn't I there, to stop you, to protect you, to save you. Billy was supposed to be ours. Oh, Elizabeth. He buried his face into his pillow, stolen from Jack's bed.  
  
"We will get him back, won't we, Jack?"  
  
"Of course, love, he's my son." Jack said, as if it were obvious and nothing to worry about. Will heard this and felt his heart break a little more. Sweet little William wasn't his. Will drove his head under his pillows, his arms over his head, and heard no more. The Captain's conversation with Elizabeth continued.  
  
"And you'll be here in the morning, correct, Jack Sparrow?" this time her tone was accusatory.  
  
"And leave you here alone in your time of need? Miss Swan, excuse me, Mrs. Turner, even I have a bit more decency than that."  
  
Elizabeth voiced her doubt of that before bidding Jack a goodnight and making her way back through the wreckage of the pirate war. In the horror of Billy going missing and the revelation he was not Will's son, she had forgotten about the scuffle. She saw, to her delight, it was not too serious. Jack's crew had arrived in time, and saved the day. She smiled. That was a bit ironic. Then she made her way home to her other children, to her father, and explain why she and Will may never come back. She bowed her head as she walked. Or how she may never come back. Will may not have anything to do with Billy anymore- after all, it was decided now that he wasn't his son. But then Elizabeth remembered Will's words.  
  
"You are still my wife. Billy is still my son."  
  
And she cried out upon remembrance, because she wanted to hold him so badly, to thank him, for telling him how he didn't deserve her and how sorry she was. But she couldn't do any of that, because instead of being at her side, he was on a pirate's ship. Because of what she had done. She cursed herself, over and over, a thousand times and she, hobbled by grief and fear and doubt, went home.  
  
Jack made his way hastily down to Anamaria's quarters, stopping only to grab as many bottles of rum as he could reach. He paused for a moment outside her door, smoothing his hair down. But before he could finish, a long, thin, muscled arm snaked through the door and pulled him in by the collar. His cry of indignation was immediately silenced by her rough kisses, which drove him back against the wall. Jack didn't mind.  
  
"I have a son," he gasped, as soon as he could breathe (admittedly, a bit after he had gotten there.) Anamaria took a step back and glared at him.  
  
"What?" and she was like fire and ice all at once. Jack took a long swig of rum, and sat down hard. In a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness he pulled Anamaria over in between his legs, and into a gentle, chaste embrace. Her heart went out to him immediately. He repeated, unbelieving, his words, and as he said them, a cry caught in his throat and they were muffled against Anamaria's breastbone.  
  
"I have a son." 


	8. Drink up me hearties, yo ho

One Night  
  
Elizabeth slept very little that night. She wasn't sure when her guilty tormented thoughts of Billy and her betrayal of Will had turned to dreams; she wasn't sure if they ever really had. She grabbed the bag she had packed the night before, with some food and money, a few changes of clothes for her and Will, and their toothbrushes. She wondered if she should have packed him a separate bag. Too late to worry now.  
  
Quickly she slipped into a pair of Will's trousers and tied them tight around her hips. They were too big by half, but it was still easier than a skirt. She put on one of Will's shirts, too, hoping he wouldn't be too angry. She didn't have anyone else's to wear.  
  
She went into her children's room, and seeing them lying there so peacefully, her heart broke. Here were her and Will's children; here was where Billy would be lying, if only she had not been so stupid and selfish and young and scared and alone and drunk and.  
  
She shook these thoughts away, what use were they of now? She bent and kissed dear little John, who was clutching Billy's pirate hat to his chest. His likeness to Will was remarkable, but he had her eyes. He was both of them, together. Like they should have been. "I love you," she whispered. She drew close to little Emily, who was too young to look much like either of her parents, but had Elizabeth's own coloring. Her hair was in corkscrew curls, bleached light from the sun, and laying all about her head like flowers. Elizabeth smoothed one curl back, let it wind tightly about her finger. Emily stirred, and Elizabeth drew back. A quick kiss on the girl's cherub forehead, a whispered token of affection, and Elizabeth hurried outside the house, stopping only to drop the letter explaining everything outside her father's bedroom door.  
  
She hurried along the path, in the fog, clutching the bag to her chest. They needed to find Billy. They would find Billy. Everything would be all right. She would tell Will how sorry she was, how much she loved him, how she couldn't sleep breathe eat drink feel live when he wasn't with her. And if he denied her, so be it. She would spend forever trying to get him back, once the children were taken care of. Once they were grown, she would chase him, like a moth following his guiding light. She didn't care that she didn't deserve him, even though she felt this, too, in her heart. She knew she couldn't live without him, and that she needed him like air food water. So even if he spurned her, like she deserved, she would be glad and follow him to the ends of the earth. She loved him.  
  
When she got to the Black Pearl, all was silent. Most of the pirates were still abed, Jack being one of them. Only one was awake. Only one had had a night as sleepless as her own.  
  
He hauled her up as gently as if nothing had happened, and did not remark on her choice of clothes. He did, however, cradle her closely to him when she was on the other side, when he could have put her down. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of being close to him, smelling the sweat and sea of him, his strong familiar arms cradling her legs and shoulders, keeping her safe. But then he put her down and turned away, slamming his fist into the other. He walked over to the starboard side and leaned against the ship, staring out at the gray, early morning sea.  
  
Elizabeth swallowed and went by his side, timidly, for the first time in her whole life, afraid of Will. He wouldn't hurt her, she knew, but he might hurt himself.  
  
"I brought you some clothes and things," she said, handing him the bag. He pawed through it for a moment, and took out an apple. He offered her one, but she shook her head. He ate it, and threw the core in the ocean.  
  
"Will, I-" she began, shyly putting her slim hand on his arm. He shut his eyes as if it burned him. She snatched her hand away.  
  
"Every time," he spoke hoarsely, his eyes and soul still closed to her. "Every time I touch you, I see you with him." He opened his eyes and look directly at her, and she saw the rage and pain there. She drew away.  
  
"Will, I'm sorry. I don't love him. I never loved him. It was you I wanted and loved and hoped for.Will, oh my Will." and she broke off into crying, because he could never be hers again, not like before. And her sobs touched William, and he could see his pain in her eyes, and it was then he knew for sure that this was something they could get over, that he could trust her again, that he still loved her. It would take time, of course, but it would work. They still loved each other and that was what mattered.  
  
"I know I don't deserve you, Will, but I need you and love you and I'll do whatever it takes, I don't care how long, I love-" she was cut off by her husband's kiss. It was a hard, long kiss, almost violent in intensity. It was a kiss about possession and territory as much as about love and need. It was nothing like the gentle, sweet kisses usually exchanged between them, but Will needed to do this, to make sure she was his, and she understood and did not fight him, but closed her eyes and melted into him. One strong hand was tangled in her curls, pressing her face to his, the other pinning her waist and torso to his. When they finally broke apart, both were stunned, and both sprung away almost instantly. Elizabeth raised a hand to her swollen lips, and Will half smiled at her.  
  
"It will take time, Elizabeth, but it will be all right." He tipped his hat at her and walked away.  
  
Jack woke up, his head throbbing, his heart sore, and with the suspicion that he was choking on his own tongue. He stood up heavily, the sheets falling away to reveal his lack of clothes. Swearing, he stooped nosily across Anamaria's room, looking for his pants. He sat back on the bed, once he had them on. Anamaria was in his shirt.  
  
She woke up, now, and reached out a hand to him. He took it, held it up to his lips, and quickly kissed his way up her arm before finding her mouth. Her lips were as swollen and tender as his. They had had a.rough night. She fell back in the bed, laughing, as Jack fell down on her and kissed her collarbone. She tangled her arms around his neck, her long legs through his. He lay his head in between her breasts, his arms around her waist. She ran her fingers through his hair and Jack was nearly purring.  
  
"Time for a visit to Teelgor, eh, love?" he murmured. Anamaria mmm'ed in response. "Shall we just give them the gold? We can, you know. It would pain me to see them sail away with, o' course, but it would pain me more, methinks, to see them sail away with my son. Or, more likely, see them sail away with the head of my son and watch as the rest of him-" Anamaria cut off the grotesque description that would have followed.  
  
"Give them our GOLD? Are you crazy?" She shoved his head from her breast and disengaged her legs. Jack fell to the floor.  
  
"Some people call me that, yes," came Jack's muffled answer. He sat up and waggled his eyebrows in delight as Anamaria tore off her, or rather, his shirt. His view was cut short, as she threw it over his head and continued to get dressed. He sighed and pulled the garment on over his head. When his head popped through Anamaria's nose was touching his and he recoiled. How did she move so damn fast? He'd like to know. Quiet as a cat, to boot.  
  
"You give them OUR gold for YOUR whelp and I'll start a mutiny on this ship before you can say-" and here she gave a rather vile expletive we shan't repeat.  
  
"I love it when you talk dirty," said Jack. Anamaria groaned.  
  
"I'm serious, Jack" and she shook her finger in his face threateningly. "If you can't think of a plan that doesn't involve us losing gold, I'm never sharing a bed with you again."  
  
Jack's eye widened. "-What-?" he hissed. Anamaria smiled smugly. "You heard me the first time, Captain. But I'll repeat it, in case  
  
your addled brain can't comprehend." She tossed him his belt.  
  
"NO" She threw his boots at his head.  
  
"MORE" She jammed his hat onto his skull.  
  
"SEX" She grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly shoved him out the door.  
  
Jack stood there in shock. Dumbly, he tried to say something. His mouth wasn't working. Nothing was working. Jack straightened his bandana, fixed his hat, and stumbled out of the women's quarters.  
  
"I'll show her.getting too upity.comes from forming relationships with crew.they get ideas.can't get to close."  
  
Jack was grumbling to himself and sipping vodka and orange juice in his office when Will came in. No sooner than the door had shut than it opened again, this time revealing Elizabeth.  
  
"Don't you bloody knock!?!" he growled. Will ignored him.  
  
"If we don't start now, Jack, we'll never make it to Teelgor on time."  
  
"So you stayed on then, even though the whelp 'snot your?" Will looked Jack straight in the eye.  
  
"He is still my son." Jack looked from Elizabeth to Will.  
  
"All.right.well let's get going then. Rouse the crew. We set sail for Teelgor." 


	9. Maraud and embezzle and even highjack

One Night  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Avast, maties! I love you all! I really do XD I'm so glad you guys like this story! And for the ones who don't, but for reasons beyond me continue to read and review, your opinion is respected but I'm not changing a damn thing :D Anyway, my beta is moving and her computer is down for a bit, so this chapter has never been seen by her. So if it's just a tad rough around the edges, that's why. Capiche? It may be subject to change, later on. Tell me what you think! Please continue to read and review! On with the show *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Will hadn't realized how much he had missed the sea until he was back on it. The sounds of water, the gentle rocking of the ship was so comforting on such a deep, primal level. It was like being back in the womb- safe, secure, innocent  
  
He didn't know how he was going to live with Billy. He still loved the boy, of course, that hadn't changed, never would. But every time he saw Jack's eyes or nose or mouth on his son's face.it would break his heart. Billy would be a constant reminder of Elizabeth's infidelity. He didn't know how he could live with him, after this.  
  
Or even if he would have the chance to try. Suppose this expedition failed? Suppose he never saw Billy again? No more pirate battles in the back yard, no more sword fighting lessons in the evening. That would be even harder to live with. That would be impossible. Will gripped the side of the ship hard.  
  
They would get Billy back. End of story.  
  
Elizabeth was being shown her room by an incredibly groggy Jack. He led her down to what the pirates referred to as the woman's quarters, but really only housed Anamaria. Jack had given it to her after hearing how she slept with a dagger under her pillow, in case one of the boys got a little too friendly. No one begrudged her the accommodation, it was about as cramped and small as theirs. Anyway, she was the first mate. She deserved a little more status, even though she was a woman.  
  
Jack muttered to himself the whole way down, ignoring Elizabeth completely. Once in awhile she stopped walked, sure that she wasn't meant to still be following him, and she had missed his grumbled direction to her room. But then he would gesture angrily and growl about hurrying it up they hadn't got all day he had other bloody things to attend to. When they reached the woman's quarters Jack pounded on the door.  
  
Anamaria took her time getting out of her bath and putting on her robe (it was Chinese silk, one of the finest things she owned) and opening the door. Jack was leaning heavily against the frame.  
  
"She," he grumbled and gestured at Elizabeth, "will be sleeping here. Since no one else will be." Anamaria smiled sweetly at Jack and patted him on the head. She stepped aside to allow Elizabeth to enter.  
  
"There isn't much room. But there is space here-" Anamaria hefted a large trunk up and put it on top of a stack of three similar chests, where it tilted crazily. Elizabeth kept a wary eye on it.  
  
"Jack, grab summa those blankets from over there," she directed the Captain, who was now sitting on the bed rubbing his temple. He complied, not even breathing a curse under his breath. Anamaria gave them to Elizabeth.  
  
"Make yourself comfortable. And don't touch anything." Elizabeth blinked, then nodded. Anamaria walked back towards the door that led to her tiny bath chamber, and stopped on the way to run her fingers tantalizingly though Jack's hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into the caress. She stopped abruptly and slammed the door, continuing her bath. Jack cursed.  
  
"WOMAN-!" he roared, but then just broke off into sporadic growls. He stood up and left, without a (coherent) word.  
  
Elizabeth folded the blankets over in the cramped space where the trunk had been. She would have to double up to sleep. She sighed. No more than she deserved. If she hadn't slept with Jack, Billy would have never been kidnapped. She wouldn't have to put herself and Will in danger. Will wouldn't be sleeping alone in a makeshift bed on a pirate ship. She wouldn't be sleeping in a space too small for Emily with a woman who would be as quick to shoot her as look at her. Upon thinking this Elizabeth glanced warily at the bathroom door. If she listened hard enough, she could hear really surprisingly good singing. The words weren't too pleasant when distinguishable, but the voice was. Pirate ships were full of surprises.  
  
Jack was staring as his hands.  
  
Some of his crew looked at him with bemusement, and then as time went on and he didn't stop, with a bit of concern. He was staring hard. His kohl lined eyes were nearly bugging out of his head. Once in awhile he would drum his fingers across the surface of the other hand, watching the numerous rings flash and sparkle in the sunlight, but other than that he made no movement He hadn't even blinked for awhile.  
  
They were nice hands, to be sure. His fingers were very long, almost abnormal. They would have been downright feminine if it weren't for the ragged nails and layers of dirt. He could trill them in a way no straight man should have been able to. And then there were the rings, gaudy ones, big gold shiny ones, on nearly every finger. They were unusual hands, most definitely out of the ordinary. But still just hands. Nothing to warrant staring at them for a full twenty minutes, as he had been doing now. Not while there were plans to be made, pirates to fight, sons to be rescued. But Jack was thinking, and thinking hard. This is what he was thinking.  
  
These were the hands that had undone the corsets of hundreds (well, maybe dozens) of women. These were the hands that steered the Black Pearl through her greatest victories. These were the hands people read about, heard about, talked about, feared, cursed, admired. These were the hands that fought Barbossa, that rescued Elizabeth, that held Anamaria at night. But had these hands done enough, he wondered, to save a son? Not only his, because he really had no part in the boy except a drunken night with Elizabeth. But Will's son. Elizabeth's son. And he had to do it without losing any gold.  
  
There was a time of course when Jack loved gold and only gold. The sea was his mistress and love, but gold his driving force. But that was before he had known her chocolate skin, her rough kisses, her soft embrace. She had softened him, much as he hated to admit it. And now he has all the gold he would ever need, could ever hope to spend, but he can't use it to buy back the most precious thing, the least expected of treasures. His son. But then again, knowing pirates like he did, they would take the ransom and kill the boy and take the Black Pearl. As if they could. Jack stood and grinned, much to the relief of his crew (although for the sake of honesty it must be said that many were equally disturbed by his smile as they were by his previous strange behavior). He realized- this was nothing more than a hit and run job. They would be at Teelgor by ten o'clock tomorrow, doubtlessly before Gunther's (or whoever was in charge now) ship. Gunther (or whoever) had had a rather large head start, but there wasn't a ship on the sea that could outmatch the Black Pearl.but Billy would be rescued. They wouldn't even pretend to give them gold, they would take the lad and then the lives of every one of those scoundrels. Sail back home. Maybe give Billy a proper hat. And then who knows?  
  
Back to adventures on the Pearl, mebbe sending Billy some gold around the holidays, like his own father had sometimes done. Or maybe he wouldn't even tell the boy. But Billy'd have to be downright stupid not to notice, and if Billy was anything like Jack, he was not stupid. Crazy, maybe, but never stupid. Then again, the boy had been raised by Will, who was notorious for acting incredibly, well, stupid.  
Jack stood up. There was no use in sitting about daydreaming about what to do with Billy. First they had to get the scalawag back. Without losing gold, or his cursedly lovely first mate's touch.  
  
Jack shook his head, to clear it. Bells tinkled and dice shook and the feather fluttered, but these were distractions he was used to. This was a proper adventure, and Jack was loving every moment of it. He went to take his place at the stern, urging his beauteous Black Pearl onward. His mouth twitched into a smile, and then he sang.  
  
".and really bad eggs." 


	10. Drink up me hearties, yo ho

One Night  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* hey, look, it's more! And this chapter has a really big plot twist! Oh, and my lovely beta is back, so, this chapter is good. XD I just noticed, I have gotten through this entire fanfic without once describing Jack "sashaying" Woot! Let's see if I can keep it up! XD I love you all, please continue to review! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Billy woke up, cold, scared, hungry, and alone. He didn't know where he was, but his hat was gone and that always bothered him. He wanted his mother. His body was battered, aching and he could see the ghostly purple of bruises forming. The floor was rocking, and he clutched at the wall. He shut his eyes. One small whimper escaped his throat. Even though he was Captain Sparrow's son, he was still only a boy. And a young one at that.  
  
Then Billy remembered; the quarrel with his mother, the ships, the fighting. He had seen his idol, Captain Jack Sparrow. Even in that dark hour, the memory made him smile. His hero had rescued him from that horrible pirate, and had actually put his arm around Billy. Had been about to speak to him. But then the pirates had stolen him away. Billy punched the floor, succeeding in nothing but giving himself a sore hand. As he sucked on his fist, he looked at his surrounding. If he was trying to cheer himself up, he would have done better to have just kept looking at the floor.  
  
It was dark, dank, and dirty. There was no light except for what came from the cracks in the ceiling and sides. The floor was curved, when he could see it through the filth. It smelled like dirty skin and rot. There was no food anywhere, and a bucket that may or may not have contained water. Billy really didn't want to see. He wasn't that thirsty yet. There was a bundle of rags in the corner, and Billy assumed it was a kind of bed. He sat on it. It growled and rolled over. Billy leapt off.  
  
"What the hell did you think you were doing?  
  
What Billy had taken to be a bed was now revealing itself as a man, as dirty and smelly as the floor. But as Billy was in the same condition himself, it really wasn't a correct assessment of the man's hygiene.  
  
"Eh? They capturing babies, now?" the man pulled himself up. Billy stuck his chin out indignantly.  
  
"I'm not a baby! I'm almost eleven years old!" Actually, Billy had turned ten less than a month ago, but the boy was proud of double digits and liked to pretend he was more secure in them. Eleven seemed a much more stable age than ten.  
  
"Eleven? Well, I'm almost sixty. Do I look it?" He shoved his face so close to Billy that their noses touched. They both gasped and scrambled to opposite corners of the little cellar. "Jack!?" gasped the man.  
  
"Father!?" cried Billy.  
  
Cautiously, they approached each other. There was no doubt about it. This man's face was more lined, his hair had a touch of gray, his beard was fuller. But it was his father's face. Will's face.  
  
"Who are you, boy?" said the man, squinting.  
  
"Who're you?," he countered. He didn't trust this old man. Not yet. The man chuckled.  
  
"I'd wager anything you're Jack's lad. Never thought I'd live to see the day. You're the spitting image of 'im. I was a great friend of your father's. Bill Turner, that's my name." Billy gasped. "But, that's my name!"  
  
"Eh? What now?" The man- Bootstrap Bill, raised an eyebrow. "You're Bill Turner?"  
  
"William Turner the Third!" cried Billy. "My father is William Turner, named for his father. You're not- you're not him, are you?"  
  
Bootstrap looked strangely at Billy. "William Turner the Third, eh?" And then he did something even more shocking. Bootstrap reached out and pulled his grandson to his chest in a bone crunching embrace.  
  
Jack was dozing in his grimy bed. His whole bedroom was covered in a layer of dust. This was mostly likely due to the fact that he hadn't actually slept there in a long, long time. His hat was pulled over his eyes, his limbs splayed out on the bed, his hands for once lying still. He didn't notice the lithe figure slip in and flip up beside him on the bed. Only when she pressed her head to his chest did he start, but by then it was too late. "Anamaria," he croaked groggily, surprised. What was she doing here? And then it dawned on him, and he smiled. "Couldn't keep away, eh, love?" "Shut up, Jack," she whispered, and then kissed him. Jack obliged willingly, and there was no more talking for quite some time. 


End file.
